


One Night

by Morteamore



Series: The Cooking Chronicles [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Insecurity, M/M, One Shot, Recreational Drug Use, alt scene, of course there's mentions of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: Troy invites Rhys back to his apartment after a night of partying. Things heat up.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Rhys
Series: The Cooking Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162034
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Conter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conter/gifts).



> This fic takes place in the _Yes, Chef!_ universe, though it isn't canon to the plot. It can be read as an alternate scene or a standalone. So basically no real knowledge of that story is required to read. Enjoy!

The apartment was chilly when Troy and Rhys stumbled through the front door, grasping at each other as if clinging to the only thing keeping them grounded. Rhys shivered in Troy’s grasp, looking up at him with a wobbly smile plastered on his face. In return, Troy leaned in, expression as smug as the cat that had gotten the cream. His hot breath brushed Rhys’ earlobe, teeth grazing against the soft flesh. Backing himself against the wall beside the door, Rhys pulled Troy to him then to his mouth. Their lips met sloppily, Rhys giggling against Troy when the taller man kicked the door closed.

“The neighbors would’ve gotten an earful tonight,” he said with amusement after they had parted. He was giddy, reeling. The room seemed to warp before his eyes with the effects of the drugs coursing through his system.

Troy’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Rhys laughed again, this time more subdued. He grabbed a fistful of Troy’s tank top in his flesh hand and pulled, watching in fascination as the fabric creased in his fingers. “Going to give me a tour of the place?” he managed to get out.

“Uh.” Straightening up, Troy looked over his shoulder at the disarray of the living room. “Place looks like a bomb hit it right now. Been real busy doing more important things than cleaning. But sure, why not.” He reached for Rhys with his flesh hand, pulling him away from the wall. “Hope Ty’s not back yet.”

Like a stray skag, Rhys followed behind Troy as he was pulled through the living room into the kitchen. To his surprise, the room was state of the art, modern in a way that he didn’t expect Troy and Tyreen to be. All stainless steel equipment and appliances. A bread maker, a rice cooker. There was a huge wok on the stovetop.

“Believe it or not,” Troy told him, gesturing with a flourish, “I can cook more than salads.”

“Oh, really?” Rhys said, trying to sound sly but nearly slurring the words. “What do you usually make?”

“Souffles, stir fries, roasts. The occasional batch of homemade space cakes.”

“You would.” Trying to lean against the counter, Rhys almost ended up sprawling as he shook his head. “You know what I could go for?”

“I definitely can’t cook right now. Not in the headspace I’m in.”

“Besides the point. But lobster mac and cheese. Do you know how to make that?”

“Never have. I could learn, though.”

The smile on Rhys’ face widened, almost to the point of madness. Thankfully he toned it down a bit a second later. “I could teach you.”

There was an audible swallow from Troy. He jabbed his thumb at the hallway. “Let me show you the rec room.”

“How do you even afford a place this big in the city?” Rhys asked as they walked to an open door to their immediate left.

“Side hustles. You know the drill.”

There were two large glass tanks in the rec room, both sitting on what looked like custom built shelves specifically designed for them. One housed a rather large snake, its round, solid black eyes peering over at them as it raised its head. The second tank looked empty, or at least Rhys didn’t immediately see anything living in it. After a few moments, something scuttled up onto the large branch situated on the bottom of the tank. Its tongue, which was a strange blue in color, flicked out once.

“That’s Skank the skink,” Troy told him, indicating the lizard.

The laugh that burst from Rhys’ lips was unable to be contained. “You really named your pet Skank?” 

“I thought that’s what they were called,” Troy muttered. “And that’s Ty’s boa, Fluffy.”

“I should probably admit: I’m terrified of snakes.”

“Fluffy’s harmless. Not really much of a snake at all. I wanted her to get a pit viper or a cobra, but she freaked on me.”

“I…don’t really blame your sister.”

They moved on down the hall, avoiding Tyreen’s room, whose door had been carelessly left ajar. Troy’s room was a mess of laundry piled haphazardly about, musical equipment, and a mattress lying flat on the floor. The walls were covered with posters for concerts and bands and movies, as well as graffiti and paint. It looked like the inside of a dive bar, the windows covered over with thick blankets to allow the fairy lights strung about the place to shine. There was a shelf that, aside from a few books and holo discs, was crammed full of different types of bongs and hookahs.

Standing in the center of the room, Rhys closed his eyes, letting the charge in the air here pulse over him. Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he knew that it was just the drugs influencing his state, making him feel things that probably weren’t there. There was no gravitational pull beckoning him closer to Troy, who just stood there watching him. And there wasn’t anything different about the air in the room that wasn’t present during the rest of the tour. It didn’t matter. Troy was moving now, eyes glassy and shining like stardust. His hand reached out, the corded muscles winding around Rhys’ body. When Rhys pressed himself up against the other man, it was akin to planets colliding, or so his head wanted to believe. 

Troy was aroused. Rhys could feel it through the tight material of his pants. Under normal circumstances, he might have pulled away, might have thought things were moving too fast. But these were far from normal circumstances. So instead, he ground himself against the other man, feeling his own arousal start to stir. 

Again, their mouths met, and this time there was tongue involved. He couldn’t help but groan softly, Rhys, when he felt Troy’s seeking passage beyond his lips. He rode the sensation out, adding his own tongue to the dance, his hands finding the hem of Troy’s shirt and toying with it.

This time, when they broke apart, Troy was breathing hard, Rhys wetting his lips while he stared up at him. Neither of them spoke, Troy canting his head towards the mattress and giving Rhys a questioning look. There was hardly a moment’s hesitation from Rhys, who lowered himself to the bed and pulled Troy down with him. The taller man lost his balance and promptly fell into a pile atop his companion, the breath knocked out of both of their lungs. They were laughing in unison soon after, amused by their own fumbling. 

“What are we even doing?” Rhys asked on a breath.

“Just roll with it, hot stuff.”

“Hot stuff? That’s definitely a misnomer.”

“No way. You’re so fucking hot, Rhys.”

Probably intending to kiss him again, Troy fell forward, nuzzling Rhys’ hair, loosening the gel in it. Rhys hummed and leaned into it, feeling the tingle deep in his follicles.

“Head massage would feel nice right now,” Rhys muttered.

Troy snickered and pulled away to ruffle his hair.

“I didn’t actually mean that!” Rhys protested, half laughing. He grabbed Troy by the shirt once more, tugging with his cybernetic fist this time before realizing what he’d done. There was a moment where he froze. Then he drew back quickly, but not before he heard a sharp tearing sound, embarrassing him further. Troy looked down to peer at the new and very large tear in his tank top, his tattoos showing through the gap in the fabric.

“Oh, man, I think I’m in love,” Troy said in a low, deep tone, practically drooling.

But Rhys wasn’t paying attention. He was trying to move his cybernetic out of sight, tucking it under his side in an attempt that he couldn’t comprehend as futile. Realizing what he was doing, Troy reached and grabbed him by the cybernetic, bringing the gloved knuckles to his lips to kiss. Rhys’ cheeks flushed pink and he averted his eyes. 

“Your cybernetics are awesome, dude,” Troy told him. “I don’t know why you’re always so ashamed of them.”

The words Rhys muttered weren’t comprehensible. He didn’t pry, Troy, instead slipping the glove off and inspecting the cybernetic closer. It was on Rhys’ tongue to protest, but he decided against it at the last minute.

“Keep it off. I like it better like this.” Troy let go of Rhys’ hand to reach over for something on the floor. It turned out to be a remote control. With a click, music started up, filling the room. “That’s better. Comfy?”

It took a moment, but Rhys nodded his head. “I’d be more comfortable if I weren’t wearing so many clothes.”

“Then let’s help you with that little problem.”

Using his flesh hand, Troy ran it up under Rhys’ shirt, fingers dancing against the warm, pale flesh. The other man gasped, helping Troy push the garment up and over his head. Then Troy was lowering his mouth to Rhys’ chest, biting down with the chrome fangs of his grill. There was a yelp from Rhys, but not one of pain. He panted, squirming as Troy’s mouth trailed kisses upward, making a line to his neck. When Troy’s teeth clamped on to the soft flesh there, Rhys’ back arched, much like a stretching cat. His dick gave a throb in his pants, straining against the fabric. All he wanted suddenly was to be released from the garment. Luckily Troy’s hand had moved to his belt and was helping him out of it. Once they were off, Troy groped at him through his underwear, Rhys letting out an involuntary moan at the sensation.

The beat of a hard industrial track seemed to engulf them as Troy began to stroke, swiftly picking up speed. Rhys moaned again and arched his hips, craving more of the other man’s touch, sensitive with the drugs still coiled in his system, horny and needy from their presence. The desire for release was almost tangible. And he was all too ready to let Troy carry him over the edge so early into their intimate foray. 

Such would not be the case tonight, however. Troy pulled away as he noticed the rising tension in Rhys’ muscles, obviously not wanting to get him off so soon. He ran his fingers through the trail of trimmed hair leading up from the waistband of his underwear to his navel, soothing the muscles there. Then he was taking Rhys’ underwear off, pulling them down each long, thin leg. Rhys’ dick stood yearning and erect, a pearly drop of precum oozing from the glans.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Troy leaned in close to Rhys’ ear, the words nearly a whisper. “You’ve got me so turned on. I just want to fuck your brains out.”

Rhys turned his head so that their mouths collided. “Go ahead,” he said when they broke apart. “I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”

The taller man let out a breathy laugh. “Not without prep, you’re not. Trust me about that.”

A quizzical look passed over Rhys’ face. It vanished a moment later as Troy undressed himself, tank top coming off first to reveal a myriad of tattoos Rhys had never seen before. Troy’s last name arched across his abs in huge block letters was a little too egotistical for Rhys’ tastes, but he could appreciate the saurian skull in the center of his chest, and the abstract, geometric shapes peppering his tan colored skin here and there. Next came his pants, which he shucked as if well practiced. No underwear beneath them, his erection unfurling like some great beacon to attract Rhys’ attention. Rhys’ eyes widened considerably at the sight, the size of Troy’s length cutting straight through the lustful fog in his brain; intensifying it, even.

“Erm…you weren’t kidding,” he heard himself say in a meek voice.

“I don’t kid about important stuff.”

Troy opened a drawer in a nightstand beside the bed and extracted something that made a quiet pop as he opened it. He bent down and caught Rhys’ lip between his chrome teeth, tugging. Beneath him, Rhys shifted and moaned, gasping when he felt something cold and slippery tracing down his perineum, moving towards his hole. Troy’s finger worked magic against it, plunging inside when Rhys least expected it. Startled, he nearly pulled away, the digit seeming to chase him, plunging deeper. Rhys breathed out hard, whimpering. Even if it was just one finger, Troy’s expertise was evident. When he worked in the first joint of a second finger, it was even more so.

“How ya feeling?” Troy asked, nuzzling his cheek. The man’s height was an advantage. He nipped Rhys’ ear, then his jaw, leaving small red indents in the skin. 

“God!” Rhys exclaimed as Troy crooked his fingers inside him. 

“Yeah? I’m right here.”

In that moment, Rhys could have given Troy a look, but he was too wrapped up in the sensation to manage it. His expression contorted in pleasure, the sensations traveling through his entire groin, from the base of his dick to the tip. It throbbed to his pulse as Troy’s fingers picked up speed, flexed and scissored.

“Too much,” Rhys managed to get out between gritted teeth.

Troy didn’t let up. In fact, he started inching in a third finger. Rhys tossed his head, his now disheveled hair flopping over his brow. 

“Gonna cum?” Troy teased, his voice unfurling like a cat’s purr.

“N—no, I—” Rhys let out a noise that was partially gasp, half moan. “Alright. Maybe.”

Shaking his head, Troy gave one more playful, skilled jab of his fingers, wrenching more noises from Rhys. “Can’t have that happening now.” The fingers drew back, slipping out, Rhys clenching around them as they did. “Roll over for me.”

Though he looked at him warily, Rhys did as instructed, his length rubbing against the sheets—which seemed to be made of silk—causing him to shudder in delight. He sprawled there, widening his legs, anticipating what was to come next. He felt Troy’s hand on his ass, grasping the flesh in a tight grip, pulling. It was clear he was getting more worked up as time dragged on, his gestures wrought with impatience. The hand moved from his ass to his hip, Troy leaning in, the head of his girthy dick poking at Rhys’ hole. It caught on the rim, dragging between his cheeks, leaving a glistening smear or precum and lube in its wake. Troy let out a breathy sound of either pleasure or frustration. It was hard to tell which.

After a few missteps, Rhys decided to help him out. He pushed backward, his fingers tightening in the sheets when he felt Troy finally penetrate him. The head slipped in inch by inch, the taller man’s dick slowly filling him to brimming. He grabbed a pillow from the pile on the bed, burying his face in it. Above him, his companion grunted, pushing in even deeper, hitting the places that made Rhys cry out in ecstasy. He bore down with his muscles, mostly out of involuntary reaction. But Troy bucked like an alpha skag, pushing until his hips were flush with Rhys’ ass, the two moaning in unison. 

“Shit, Rhys. Do that again, and I won’t be lasting long.”

There was merely a hum from Rhys, who lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. There was the faintest hint of a grin on his face when he slammed himself backwards once more. Troy’s breath hitched, ending in a strangled groan. He got his bearings again swiftly. Arms, one flesh and one prosthetic, wound their way around Rhys’ torso, yanking him upward, pulling him against Troy’s chest. The arms were like steel bands around him, holding him tightly so he didn’t slip away. Troy growled in his hair, a primal sound that vibrated all the way down to Rhys’ groin. Then Troy’s teeth were sinking deep into his shoulder, piercing the skin this time. His body jerked against Rhys’, his dick penetrating the other man deep, drawing against his prostate with every stroke.

In Troy’s grasp, Rhys was breathing hard. He writhed like a ratch caught under the claws of a big cat, only far more willing to meet his fate. One of Troy’s hands reached down, grabbing him by the base of his dick. It stroked him with slick efficiency, squeezing, corkscrewing. Troy’s palm brushed Rhys’ glans and he saw heaven in that moment. His whole body felt on fire and somehow infused with light at the same time. It was a near transcendent experience, but it was probably just the drugs in his system fading slowly away.

Rhys called Troy’s name, a desperate, wanting cry. But Troy didn’t seem willing to let him find his release just yet. He stopped the manual manipulations of his hand, pounding into Rhys from behind in such a hard, fast rhythm that the bed shifted. Mind exploding with pleasure, Rhys could only ride the sensations out, being pushed to the edge with each collision of their bodies then promptly dragged away again. Rhys knew he’d be sore in the morning from such rough treatment, but he didn’t care, lost in lust.

“I’m getting so close,” came Troy’s voice in-between pants.

Feeling particularly devious, Rhys gripped him tight in his pelvic muscles, milking him. He was rewarded with Troy’s cries, the other man’s muscles beginning to go taut. From that, he could tell Troy was even closer than he was letting on, and used his cybernetic hand to guide Troy’s to his own dick.

“You better not leave me high and dry,” Rhys said, breathless.

“Course not. What do you take me for?”

“I’m still deciding that.”

Troy bit him again, a little harder this time, leaving more impressions of teeth on his shoulder. His hand gripped Rhys’ cock again, tightening his grip, letting the movements of his hips thread it through his fingers. Rhys’ mouth dropped open, hanging there as a series of noises were wrenched from it. His orgasm built quickly, setting his dick pulsing. He was spiraling up, up, reaching towards that pinnacle of pleasure.

“Fuck!” he heard Troy exclaim over the pound of rushing blood in his ears.

A heartbeat or two later, Troy slammed into him one final time and stayed like that. Rhys felt the pulsing sensation of the taller man’s semen flooding him in powerful bursts. There was so much of it, its abundance trickling out between them, seeping down Rhys’ thighs. The added heat and fullness only added to Rhys’ arousal. Before he knew it, he was bucking hard against Troy’s palm, shooting pearly strings of cum over the other man’s fingers and down onto the bed. Troy continued to stroke and tease him, drawing every last drop from him. When Rhys tried to pry his hand off of himself, clearly overstimulated now, he complied. Troy wasted no time, however. He brought his cum coated fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. Rhys saw the action out of the corner of his eye, those feral cheeks hollowed, and felt a fresh wave of arousal rise up in him. He tamped it down. For now. Best to save that for later.

Troy pulled out of Rhys, a breathy sigh escaping him as he did so. Nearly collapsing to the bed upon being released, Rhys shivered. He managed to catch himself before he could flop down, lowering himself with care and resting his head on one of the pillows. His companion followed soon after, Troy laying down opposite him, smirking as their gazes met.

“I’m not finished with you, hot stuff,” Troy said.

Eyes going to half-mast, Rhys shook his head and managed a half hearted attempt at striking Troy with a pillow. “Stop calling me that already. And at least give me a moment to catch my breath.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Certainly not letting me rest.”

The huff that came from Troy was good natured. He scooted closer, closing the distance between them. They kissed almost chastely. His lips trailed down Rhys’ neck, moving to the hollow of his throat, where he sucked gently. The other man sighed, closing his eyes. Even when Troy bit his collarbone he didn’t open them. He was blissed out, lazy. As his companion moved even lower still, working down his chest, he finally cracked an eye open to watch him. 

“This is nice,” Rhys remarked, the words dripping off his tongue in a slow roll.

“It’s about to get nicer.”

“Oh, is it?” 

The tone of Rhys’ words was teasing, playful. But he soon changed his tune when Troy moved his mouth down to his groin. Hot breath brushed against the shaft of his dick, heightening his anticipation. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he had to let it out in a rush. At the same time, Troy moved in like a predator on prey, his tongue snaking out to lick along the semi-softened skin of Rhys’ length. 

Rhys was surprised at how quickly he was beginning to stand at attention again under Troy’s ministrations. The man’s tongue and lips were undoubtedly skilled. They worked him with expertise. He felt said tongue flick at his glans and then twine around it, sending lightning bolts shooting straight down his spine. A moment later, Troy’s mouth was closing over him, swallowing just the tip at first. They were exquisite, the gentle sucking motions the taller man made. Rhys could feel his flesh straining against them, weighted and heavy.

Unable to help himself, Rhys reached out and tangled his cybernetic fingers in Troy’s hair. He no longer cared if he were using that hand, and besides, Troy seemed to relish in it. In response, Troy tugged at his balls, kneading them.

“Oh, fuck,” Rhys moaned, drawing the word out. “You’re pretty amazing at this.”

Troy looked up at him then, the smirk around the tension in his jaw evident. He drew off Rhys with a soft sound, jerking him slow and steadily a few times.

“Did you really expect anything else?”

From Rhys, a snort. He let his head fall back. Troy took him in his mouth once more, moving past the head of his dick this time, lips slipping down the shaft inch by slow inch. Rhys gasped and moaned, tugging at Troy’s abundant hair. He watched the other man’s cheeks hollow, felt the pressure build so suddenly around his dick that he was nearly reeling. His breath rose up, deep and ragged, and he’d thought he’d cum again right then and there. But Troy squeezed his balls, then, and released him from the suckling confines of his mouth. And Rhys was able to breathe again, and able to draw himself back from the edge.

“Gimme a sec,” Troy huffed, catching his own breath. “Ah, shit. Been awhile since I done this. Forgot it makes your jaw sore.”

The look Rhys gave Troy was amused. “Take your time. I’m perfectly okay waiting.”

“Don’t get too used to it.”

The two of them chuckled together, obviously on the same page as each other. After they had sobered, Troy dove for Rhys’ length again, swallowing it in one go. Rhys’ toes curled and pushed against the mattress, his heart seeming to still in his chest. As Troy bobbed up and down, making eager, wet noises, he felt his orgasm rising at a feverish pace again. His hips canted and tried to chase Troy’s mouth, simultaneously chasing his orgasm. Troy moaned at the feel of his movements, careful not to bite down in his excitement.

“Gonna cum,” Rhys managed to breathe out, the muscles in his stomach straining and going taut. 

To his surprise, Troy didn’t pull off. In fact, he sped up his pace, sloppily sucking Rhys’ dick down to the hilt. The confines of his mouth and throat were pleasantly constricting, growing tighter and tighter until Rhys could no longer endure it. With a low, long shout, he was cumming, flooding Troy’s mouth with burst after burst of warm jism.

Troy drank down every last drop, his throat working rhythmically to suck Rhys dry. When there was nothing left for Rhys to give, he let the other man’s dick slip slowly from his mouth, saliva and cum still connecting them by a few threads. The taller man looked up at Rhys, then, his eyes dancing with a satisfied light.

“How was that for you?”

“Mind blowing,” Rhys murmured, barely able to form words. “I haven’t been sucked off like that in who knows how long.” He smiled and adjusted himself on the mattress, reluctantly letting Troy’s hair loose from his grip, but not before giving it a tug. The taller man understood the request. Like a serpent, he snaked up Rhys’ naked torso, half draping himself over him. They kissed yet again, slow and passionate this time. Lazy, even.

“Spend the night?” Troy asked him.

Rhys thought about it. He could feel the drugs had worn off, that he was back to his normal state. And he knew that there was work the next morning. Plus, Tyreen was bound to come home at some point. What would she think if she saw him the next morning, skipping off to work with Troy? He sighed.

“I probably shouldn’t. My cat’s likely starving.”

“Oh.” Troy tried not to look crestfallen, but it was evident in his expression. “Some other time I guess, then.”

“Yeah, some other time.” Feeling somewhat guilty, Rhys sighed once more. “Cuddle for awhile, at least?”

Just as Rhys suspected, that seemed to make Troy perk up again. He wound his prosthetic around Rhys, drawing him even closer to his body.

“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of denying you after sex cuddles.”

For a long time the two of them just lay there like that, snug and warm in each other's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MorteAmore)


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